El said goodbye to Dayne and Laze as they left the cafeteria. The other two would go see their parents to talk about what had happened. To be consoled.

She didn’t have parents she could go talk to. And, despite the exhaustion from the long flight back, she had too much nervous energy to let her sleep. If Nexin was there, she’d talk to him. He’d know what to say to make her feel better. Sure, they were rivals when it came to sparring, but he was also always the big brother that looked out for her no matter what.

Him not being there, being deployed so soon after the run-in with the strange newts, was a big part of her unease. El had never been nervous of him going off on missions, well, other than the first time, but Esis’s words about the storm being something bigger still rang in her ears. Was he okay?

El turned into the sparring room without realizing that’s where she’d been going the whole time, her mind occupied by her worries. A lone man with a sponge and bucket looked up from his hands and knees at her as she entered.

Sol. The refugee from Salid. What was he doing there?

“Sorry,” he said, his voice flat. Almost like it was devoid of life. “I’ll be finished in a few minutes if you need to use the room. Just have to wait for the floor to dry. Don’t want you to slip,” he said and gestured at the wide room behind him.

“It’s okay,” El said, igniting her wings and lifting herself into the air. “I’m not too worried about it.”

Sol’s eyes lingered on her flaming wings while emotions danced across his face in quick succession. Longing, anger, and resignation. Gone so quick they were barely there before he turned away.

“Right, my mistake,” he said quietly.

Sol, the Sparkless refugee. How could she have forgotten that? And there she went and flaunted the thing he probably wanted more than anything else in the whole world.

El dropped back to the ground and extinguished her wings, though from the heat in her cheeks, they were likely just as red as the wings had been.

“Your name is Sol, isn’t it?” she asked and walked toward him, the heels of her boots clicking with each step on the impeccably shiny floors. How long had he been cleaning?

“Yes,” Sol said, but didn’t look up from his scrubbing.

“I’m… sorry about that,” she said.

“I don’t need your pity,” Sol said, his voice still flat. “It is what it is.”

“What’s it like?” The words came out before El could stop them.

Sol looked up and met her with his dead eyes. “Cold,” he said.

“Ah, you’re right. That was a heartless thing of me to ask. I shouldn’t have…” El trailed off as Sol gently shook his head.

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“You misunderstand. It’s cold, not having a Spark. I lived down in Salid because the air was warmer. Here, you all have it, so you don’t consider how much colder it actually is. And it’s only going to get colder for me as the seasons change,” Sol said. “At least the cleaning helps keep me warm.”

El nodded. He was right, she probably didn’t understand. She’d never been cold in her entire life. But the talk of cold triggered another thought.

“Sol, can I ask you a couple of questions about your home? Before you came here with Oril and Lilin?” El asked.

“Yes,” he said simply, then continued scrubbing.

El watched him work while she figured out what to ask him. Even Sparkless, he was in good shape with toned, muscular arms, wide shoulders, dark skin, and his black hair loosely tied back. From physical labor?

“What did you do, back in Salid?” she asked.

“Fished,” he answered.

“A hobby?”

“No. I had a boat. It was my job.”

“Oh? How big was your crew?”

“Just me. Nobody would work with me. Worried being Sparkless was contagious,” he said, his voice never changing tones.

“Is it?” she asked, again before thinking. Maybe she should go get some sleep so she could stop sticking her burning foot in her mouth?

“No,” he said. “Though a bad reputation is. You may not want to be seen talking to me.”

El looked around the empty room. “I think we’re okay,” she said. “Do you miss the sea?”

“Ocean,” Sol corrected. “And yes.”

“Why?” El asked. “I’ve never been that far south before… before,” she amended what she was going to say. She’d get to that part later.

Sol’s hand stopped moving and his whole body went stone-still. El was just about to ask him if he was okay when he sat back on his knees and met her eyes again. “I can’t fly,” he said. “Being on my boat was the closest thing I would ever have to that freedom.”

“Was?” El asked.

“Boat’s gone. Salid probably is too,” he said, then leaned forward and resumed his scrubbing.

“Sol, do you remember much about the attack?” El asked.

He nodded. “I told your people everything I know.”

“Would you mind telling me about it?” she asked.

Sol pointed at the wide floor in front of him. “I still have a lot to finish. You can ask whatever you like. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Did you get a good look at the lizards when they attacked?”

“It was night, no moon. Just their silhouettes moving between dark buildings.”

“No fire? The lizards breathe flame.”

“No fire,” Sol confirmed. “If anything, it was a cool night.”

“Were you in Salid when it happened?”

Sol shook his head. “Lilin lives—lived—on a hill on the outskirts. I was out at her house helping with her garden. She made me dinner in return. We were eating when the screaming started. When we figured out what was happening, we left.”

“You didn’t go down to the town?” El asked.

Sol tapped his chest while he scrubbed. “What could I do other than get Lilin to safety?”

“What about your boat?”

“Just a thing. Lilin wouldn’t have made it far on her own.”

El nodded, even though Sol wasn’t looking at her. His story made sense, and as much as she wanted more information about the strange lizards, his decision probably saved all three refugees’ lives. “I heard you found Oril on the road?”

“Yes, about a mile north of town. Unconscious, so I had to carry him on my back.”

“North of town? Is that where the lizards attacked from?”

“Must have been, though I didn’t see any. I guess we were lucky.”

“And he was… just lying there?”

“Yes. Like something clubbed him over the back of the head and left him for dead. There was quite a bit of blood, but head wounds are like that. The injury actually wasn’t that serious.”

He wasn’t encased in ice? The battle of Helibak replayed in El’s mind as she reviewed each of the deaths she witnessed. Did any of them end without the person being entombed in solid ice? No, not a one. What did that mean?

And why didn’t that happen to Oril?

“Are those all your questions?” Sol asked after several minutes of silence.

“Oh, sorry, was trying to figure something out. What are you going to do now?” she asked.

“Clean the floors,” he answered.

“Is that what you want?”

“What else can I do?” he asked, once again tapping his chest.